


Birthday Banter

by onecent



Series: Eyes and Ears [9]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel
Genre: Banter, Friendship, Gen, birthday cakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:39:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7234102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onecent/pseuds/onecent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Matt finally make that cake together. Sort of. And Clint does not eat cake batter off the walls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Banter

“So how old are you turning again?” Matt asked, stirring the large bowl of cake batter.

Clint attempted to swipe up some of the batter with his finger, but Matt slapped his hand before he could get close. “That information is classified.”

“Your age is classified?” Matt raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“My birthdate is classified,” Clint clarified.

“Well I already know it’s June 18th, so all I’m missing is the year.”

Clint raised a finger. “Ah, you think it’s June 18th. But you have no way of knowing it’s true.”

“What, you lied on your paperwork?”

“Or the information was edited.”

Matt threw up his hand, inadvertently splattering cake batter behind him across the cupboards. “What is even the point of that? Why does it matter what your birthday is?”

“You never know.” Clint perched on the stool next to the counter. “There’s all sorts of weird stuff out there. Super science, magic. You never know what information like that might be used for.”

“That is ridiculous.” Matt stirred the batter harder. “It’s not like they can go in and redact everyone’s birthdate. Everyone knows when Steve Rogers was born, and Tony Stark.”

“Do they?” Clint leaned forward against the counter. He started tapping his hand against the counter and rocking the stool a little. “Are you sure about that? What are the chances that Steve Rogers was actually born on Independence Day? How do you know the SSR didn’t make that up when they turned him into a super-soldier?”

“You realize that I know you’re lying.”

“I know you listen to heartbeats and read the temperature and sweat on a person when they are lying. But I am too well-trained to give myself away like that. I’ve tricked a polygraph machine multiple times.”

“I’m more accurate than a polygraph, and I don’t even need to listen to your heartbeat. You always try to cover up your hearbeat by making a bunch of noise whenever you’re lying so I can’t call you on it.”

“But how do you know that I don’t know that I do that? And that I haven’t been making a bunch of noise purposefully when I’m telling the truth and also when I’m lying so you can’t tell the difference?”

“That is one of the more ridiculous sentences that has ever come out of your mouth,” Matt said. “And I once heard you ask Nick Fury if you could slap his butt.”

“He didn’t actually say no to that.”

“His glare was so intense that even I could see it.”

“Details.” Clint waved his hand in the air. “So how is that cake coming along?”

“Batter is mixed.” Matt set the bowl on the counter. “Did you grease the pan like I said to?” He slapped at Clint’s hand again.

“Um.” Clint started to rock on his stool again. “Yes?”

“For god’s sake,” Matt muttered. “You’re the one who said you wanted to make a cake! So why am I doing this anyway? Why am I doing any of it?”

“Because it’s for my birthday?” Clint tried. “And that means you should let me taste the batter.”

“When it’s poured into the greased baking pan, you can have the spoon. And if you’re too impatient to wait I know I made a mess somewhere around here, you can go try that.”

“Matt.” Clint sat up straight and put a hand to his chest. “Are you suggesting that I would eat uncooked cake batter off the cabinet doors?”

“Are you suggesting that you wouldn’t?” Matt asked. “Didn’t you eat a piece of straw wrapper thinking it was popcorn once?”

“I spit it out!”

“And said, ‘this tastes funny,’ and then tried to eat it again.”

“I’ve had some weird-tasting popcorn in my day!”

“So you should be fine with a little cabinet cake batter.”

“Or.” Clint reached down and pulled something off his lap and set it on the counter. “You can pour the batter into this greased baking pan and then I’ll lick the spoon.”

Matt groaned. “You said you hadn’t done it!”

“I said yes. I’m proving a point. You don’t actually know when I’m lying.” Clint reached for the bowl and Matt relinquished it so the batter could be poured into the pan. “For example, I forgot to turn on the oven.”

Matt turned his attention to the oven, which was still room temperature. “You did forget to turn on the oven.”

“Also I have three pairs of footie pajamas.”

“Okay, that was a lie.”

“Correct. I own four.”

“There, that’s--”

“Haha, got you again!” Clint finished pouring the batter and set the bowl back on the counter. “I only have two. Iron Man and Captain America. Didn’t feel right wearing Hulk or Thor. And they don’t make it in any other versions yet. Except Spiderman. When did that kid ever get popular enough for his own merchandise?”

“Probably has something to do with his name being blasted everywhere by Jameson. Bad press is better than no press, right?” Matt turned to the oven again. “I have no idea how to work this thing. Is it dials, buttons? What are we working with?”

“Here, I got it.” Clint stood and flipped a dial on the front of the stove. “How hot?”

“Check the box for directions.”

Clint sighed. “Back to the trash we go. We’re the kings of the garbage now. Oh, hey, speaking of, how many times did you end up in a dumpster in the last year?”

“Five. A few jumps, a few pushes, and one really unfortunate rescue that I don’t want to talk about ever, and don’t ask me to babysit.” Matt shuddered. 

“O...kay. Well, I only made it into three dumpsters, but I think I win anyway because I got thrown onto a trash planet. Like there was this weird alternate dimensional portal thing and everyone got thrown into different locations and different universes, and Tony said he found a bunch of apes and Steve managed to go to a place where the Justice League was real, if you could believe it, but I got sent to trash planet. A literal planet where everyone else just threw their garbage!”

“Well it’s nice to know you were finally in your element.”

“That joke was definitely funny. This time and when I heard it from literally everyone else. So thank you.” Clint pulled the cake mix box out of the trash. “400 degrees. And bake for 20 minutes.”

“And wait for the oven to heat up. Which before you complain, it’s your fault it wasn’t preheated already.”

Clint sighed and went to the fridge. He pulled out a beer, popped off the lid, and passed it over to Matt before getting one for himself. “In that case, want to watch something with me? I can do more audio descriptions. Or I actually bought movies that come with descriptive language.”

“That sounds good. Set a timer for the oven. Give it twenty minutes and then we’ll put the cake in.”

“Excellent.” Clint wandered into the living room and began setting up the TV and DVD player. Matt took his beer and sat down on one end of the couch while Clint started muttering about too many remotes and mixed cables.

“Thirty-five,” Matt said suddenly.

“Still classified,” Clint replied. “But nice try.”

“Dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, classifying a birthday,” Matt said. “At least this year you’re not going to complain about my birthday present to you.”

“You got me an Iron Fist action figure.”

“You got me a Spiderman blanket!”

“Not for your birthday! Birthdays are sacred! That’s why I got you a set of Stark-designed batons for your birthday.”

“And now you’re getting a cake. Happy birthday.”

“Yeah.” Clint sighed happily and put his feet up on the coffee table. “Yeah, I’m enjoying it pretty well.”

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of Clint's birthday, I figured I'd come back to this series. I wasn't able to fit in any plot, but I hope you can excuse me anyway. Let me know if there are any glaring errors.


End file.
